Ashes of a Black Frost

TWELVE

Visyna pulled her hair back and tied it in ponytail, carefully brushing back every wet strand matted to her forehead. Her hands only shook a little. She hadn’t had a drink of water in hours, and hadn’t slept in well over a day, but it was more than that. She didn’t need her weaving to know that blood was going to spill. With each step they took in the company of Kritton and the disgraced elves, a reckoning loomed.

“They’re going to kill us,” she whispered to Chayii, turning her head slightly to watch the elf’s reaction.

Chayii kept walking, her left hand gently stroking the fur on Jir’s head as he padded beside her. “They have strayed far from their upbringing. Kritton is a foul influence on them, and I fear that his taint is every bit as toxic as the Shadow Monarch’s.”

The procession suddenly ground to a halt. Visyna stood on the balls of her feet, her hands by her sides. She didn’t know what to expect, but feared the worst.

“We’ll rest for ten minutes, no more!” Kritton shouted from further up the tunnel.

The prisoners collapsed to the sandy floor. Visyna was tempted to join them, but she couldn’t rest. Their very lives were at stake.

“What are you doing, my child?” Chayii asked, easing herself into a sitting position against one wall. Jir sank down onto his belly and rested his head in her lap and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know. .” she said, letting the thought trail off as she moved up the tunnel.

She was surprised she didn’t bump into an elf right away, but they had stayed as far away from the prisoners as possible. After all, it wasn’t as if they could run anywhere down here. Still, perhaps there was something to that. Had Kritton warned them to stay back? But why? She was still pondering that when a bayonet loomed out of the shadows and pointed straight at her stomach. She froze, following the steel back to the musket and the elf holding it.

“Get back with the others.”

Visyna stood her ground. “I’m just stretching my legs,” she lied, cringing as soon as she said it. They had been marching forever, who could possibly need to stretch their legs?

The bayonet retreated as the elf pulled his musket in closer to his body, but kept the weapon pointed at her. He stepped forward until he was three feet away. “He said to watch out for you, that you couldn’t be trusted,” the elf said.

Visyna offered the elf a sad smile. Kritton would distrust her, and with good reason. Still, in the dim light, this elf looked more like a beggar who needed help than a killer disciple of a traitor. The soldier’s cheeks were gaunt and his eyes blinked slowly, as if he was just waking up. His uniform was a patchwork of inexpert repairs. Several buttons had been replaced by bits of wood, and most shockingly, his bayonet had rust on it. She had been around the Iron Elves long enough to know a soldier’s first duty was to keep his weapon in perfect working order.

“He told me you were the best soldiers in the Empire,” Visyna said, giving her voice a soft, maternal lilt. “He told me that when we found you, everything would be right again.”

The elf blinked and took a hand off his musket. “Corporal Kritton said that?”

“Major Swift Dragon said that.”

At the mention of Konowa’s name, the elf stood up straight and he brought his free hand back down to grip his musket. “Do not mention his name,” the elf hissed between clenched teeth. His eyes were now wide open. “He destroyed us.”

Visyna stepped back a pace, shocked at the vehemence in the elf. “He feels terrible about what happened, but surely you know he did it with the best of intentions. The Viceroy was in league with-”

The bayonet shot forward and came to rest directly under her chin.

“If you mention his name again, I will gut you,” the elf said. Spittle frothed at the corners of his mouth and his hands shook. Visyna could only stare into his unblinking eyes. She was face-to-face with an elf every bit as lost as the diova gruss, elves turned mad by their bond with a Silver Wolf Oak like Tyul. . and the Shadow Monarch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elf lowered his bayonet and turned and walked further up the tunnel, leaving Visyna alone and shaken. She wanted to feel sympathy for the elf, but her overwhelming reaction was one of concern for Konowa. His elves hate him. He’ll be devastated. As she collected herself, she realized she wasn’t grasping the bigger picture. They wanted to kill him.

She turned and trudged back toward the group and found an empty section of wall to sit down against. A shadow loomed over Visyna and she brought up her hands, prepared to try to weave, but instead of a bayonet there was a goat-hide water skin being held out to her. She blinked and brushed the hair from her face.

“Water?”

She reached out and took the water skin, smiling her thanks at the soldier holding it. Private Hrem Vulhber rubbed his wet hands on his caerna then sat down opposite her, careful to keep the cloth wrap tucked. He rested his back against the wall and eased his legs out in front of him at an angle away from her so that his boots almost touched the far wall. Like all the Iron Elves his kneecaps were now a deep bronze from their exposure to the sun. Visyna glanced at the back of her hand and saw the color wasn’t that different from her own.

“Another few weeks and I’ll pass for an Elfkynan,” Hrem said as if reading her thoughts.

Visyna’s cheeks grew hot and she hid her embarrassment by lifting the water skin up to her mouth and pouring a long drink. The water had a sharp tang to it from whatever wine had been in the water skin before, but for all of that it was the best drink she’d had in some time. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, then leaned forward and gave the skin back to Hrem, careful not to touch his hand. He took it just as carefully and put a small cork stopper in the funnel.

“I saw you try to talk to one of them, not smart,” he said. He didn’t sound angry, more concerned.

“They were Konowa’s brothers. I just can’t believe they could turn so bad.”

Hrem looked up and down the tunnel before responding. “War is like that. I’ve seen bad men become angels, and good ones devils. These elves were good. We all heard the stories about the Iron Elves. Their reputation in battle was legendary. Made them sound inhuman, er, inelfen I guess,” Hrem said.

“Then how could they be so. . so lost now?” Visyna asked, trying and failing to understand the rage she’d seen in the elf’s eyes.

“Every man, and elf, has his limit. No telling where or when you’ll reach it, but you shoot and get shot at long enough, and parts of you just stop working. You see things you can’t unsee.” Hrem’s voice grew quiet as his words slowed. “You feel too much, or maybe, you stop feeling altogether. You do things you never thought you’d ever do, or even could do. Every soldier is different, but in the end, you might win the battles, but you’ll never lose the memories of them. It’s the kind of thing that can eat you up inside until good and bad are just words with no meaning.”

“Are you saying there’s no hope for them?” Visyna asked.

Hrem shrugged his huge shoulders, the leather cross-belts over his jacket scraping against the rock as he did so. “Maybe, but I doubt it. If they were going to change, the time was back in the library when Kritton was pointing his musket at Sergeant Arkhorn. When they didn’t stop Kritton, they sealed their fate.”

The rock behind Visyna’s back vibrated as Scolly let out a shuddering snore a few feet away. Yimt’s squad were arrayed around her like rag dolls dropped from a great height and left in whatever position they fell. Teeter, the former sailor, had fallen asleep with his chin resting on his chest and his unlit pipe dangling from his mouth. Beside him, the religious farmer, Inkermon, slumped forward with his head between his knees, his hands palm up on the tunnel floor. Curled up in a ball directly across from them, Zwitty moaned and twitched as if caught in the throes of a nightmare. Visyna debated, then decided against coughing loudly to wake him up. He was less annoying when asleep.

A few yards up the tunnel she could just make out the shapes of Chayii and Jir in the dim light. The bengar’s head still rested on the elf’s lap like a big dog. Visyna tried to reconcile that image with what she knew of the animal’s predatory nature and found it difficult. Jir, like everyone else, was a very contradictory creature.

She tried to see past Chayii and Jir, but there wasn’t enough light. The elves were not in sight, but she knew they were close by.

She decided to change the subject. “It feels like they’re marching us all the way to the Hyntaland,” Visyna said, leaning her head back against the wall and wiggling her toes in her sandals. The bottoms of her feet felt like she’d been walking on coals and her shinbones ached.

“Or as far as the coast, at which point we might need to hold our breath,” Hrem said, his voice deadpan but his eyes twinkling.

Visyna smiled up at the ceiling. “I suppose the ocean might pose a bit of challenge,” she said, although she knew she had to come up with a plan to free them long before then. That elf soldier’s eyes hadn’t shown a hint of mercy.

“We’re still a fair ways away. I don’t think we’ve covered more than twenty-one miles so far.”

Visyna brought her head forward and focused on Hrem. He wasn’t smiling. “You know this?”

Hrem reached up a hand and tapped a finger against his temple. “No magic required, just the ability to keep count in my head.”

“Any idea where we’re going? Are they heading us toward the coast?”

Hrem removed his shako and began scratching his head. His black hair was wet and plastered against his skull. The more he scratched the more the hair stood up on end. When he was satisfied with his efforts he put his shako back on his head with a soft thunk. “Near as I can tell, we started heading north, but then there were some twists and turns. I doubt we’re going south because that takes us deep into the desert and further away from their homeland. Angling toward the coast makes more sense. I heard the major say they were stationed at Suhundam’s Hill, and I know that’s due west of the library. If I had to wager on it, other than my life, which is already in the pot,” he said, a small grin lighting up his face, “it feels like we’re heading west. Makes sense, too. They meet up with that dwarf Griz at their old fort, resupply, and make for the coast.”

“Why not head back to Nazalla? There are all kinds of ships there.”

Hrem waved away her idea. “True, but these elves are deserters now, just like that bastard Kritton, so Nazalla is the last place they’d want to go. Too many Calahrian forces there. Assuming the city didn’t rise up in rebellion. .”

Images of their recent escape from Nazalla flashed unbidden in Visyna’s mind. Private Renwar’s calling of the shades of the dead had led to many deaths.

“You’re right, but no one but us knows they’re deserters, and it was Kritton that killed Sergeant Arkhorn. They could still redeem themselves,” Visyna said, knowing as soon as she said it that it was foolish. The elves had cast their lot with Kritton. There was no turning back for them.

“I wish it was different,” Hrem said, “but they just went too far over the edge. I actually feel sorry for the poor bastards. They’re really just as cursed as we are. They may not be bound by this oath, but they’ve had to live with being born with a black ear tip and their banishment a lot longer.”

Anger welled up in Visyna. He blames Konowa. “Major Swift Dragon acted in the best interests of all people when he killed that horrible Viceroy. Do you know the horrors that Viceroy committed against my people? It’s true Gwyn turned out to be even worse, but Kon-Major Swift Dragon wasn’t to know that. And he certainly couldn’t have known his reward for trying to rid the world of such evil would be the loss of his command and the banishment of his regiment out here.”

Hrem held up his hands in peace. “I ain’t blaming the major, Miss Tekoy. He was right to kill the first Viceroy even if it did lead to all of this. I know he feels bad about it and wants to do right by these elves, but Kritton found them before he did. Now they think whatever treasure they scavenged out of the library will be enough to buy back their honor. The really sad thing about it is, they could have had their honor back for the price of a single musket ball put in the back of Kritton’s head. But they had their chance and didn’t take it. Like I said, I feel sorry for them, but because of them, Yimt is dead. If they find themselves on the end of a rope one day, I won’t shed a tear.”

Visyna bowed her head toward Hrem. “My apologies, Hrem, I should have known better.”

“We have faith in the major. He may be as stubborn as a two-headed mule and thrice as ornery, but deep down we know he’ll do right by us.” The conviction in Hrem’s voice surprised her.

“But the oath, the frost fire. .”

Hrem looked up to the ceiling as he marshaled his thoughts. “I’ll admit, I sure didn’t expect that when I took the Queen’s coin, but I wasn’t a babe in the woods either. I saw past the fancy uniforms and marching bands when I joined. Soldiers die. I knew it right from the start. We all did,” he said, lowering his head to look around at the sleeping soldiers. “But the thing about soldiering is, we all know that it’ll always be the other guy that does the dying. That’s the trick. People are always talking about hope, but sometimes the best thing you can have is the ability to fool yourself. None of us saw what the oath would do, but if it wasn’t that it would have been something else. So you trick yourself into believing we’ll find a way to escape these elves, rejoin the regiment, get to the Shadow Monarch’s mountain, put an end to Her and break the oath.”

It took a moment for the meaning of Hrem’s words to sink in. When they did Visyna was aghast. He really believes they’re all doomed.

“There really is hope, Hrem. Don’t give up.”

The big soldier said nothing, but looked down at his hands. Flickers of black frost danced in his palms, then went out. “Like I said, Miss Tekoy, sometimes the best thing you can do is fool yourself. If it works, then maybe it was hope all along and you just didn’t realize it. Like when I look in a mirror and say ‘Hey, I’m a good-lookin’ fellow who won’t scare children in the street because they think I’m a giant likely to eat them’ or something like that.”

“I think you’re very gallant, and very handsome,” Visyna said.

Hrem lifted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Best we keep that between us. I won’t tell the wife and you don’t tell the major.”

Visyna repressed a grin. “And a scoundrel, too.”

“That you can tell folk.”

“Gladly,” Visyna said. “We’ll be out of these tunnels eventually.”

Hrem looked around them then leaned forward, lowering his voice. “At which point we’re going to have do something about these elves. Is Miss Red Owl going to have a problem with that? They are her people after all.”

Visyna glanced over again toward Chayii and Jir. “I think our only problem with her will be staying out of her way when the time comes.”

“Good. Now we just need to figure out how we’re going to overpower eighty some elves,” Hrem said.

Visyna looked down at her hands and delicately weaved the air in front of her. Thin skeins of magic began to glow between her fingers. She looked back up at Hrem and saw his eyes gleaming with reflected light. “I have an idea. .”